


realization

by wouldyouknowmore



Series: Uncle Loki [5]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Human, Feelings, Incest, M/M, Mentions of Past Loki/Others, lots of feelings, uncle loki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-26 04:00:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20735882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wouldyouknowmore/pseuds/wouldyouknowmore
Summary: Part 5 of Uncle Loki, in which all those feelings finally come to a head.Loki’s flight back home leaves tomorrow at noon, and with nothing better to do this evening, he settles in at the bar of his hotel in Stockholm.Halfway through his second drink, he realizes that he’s looked at his phone about ten times since he sat down. Not to check email or his flight status or see if his Skype meeting request for next week has been approved—to see if Thor has messaged him.This is a problem.





	realization

**Author's Note:**

> 1) I have no excuses.  
2) Hi pls trust me :D  
3) If you think that's Jason Momoa, you're absolutely right.
> 
> Follows the first four fics in the Uncle Loki series, so please read those first if you haven't already.
> 
> All love and gratitude and devotion and blame to my Wendy for the beta and moral support and evil suggestions.

Halfway over the Atlantic, in the middle of a much needed power nap, Loki’s phone buzzes in his pocket. 

_this is a friendly reminder that my graduation is the day after you get back from your stupid work trip_, Thor says. And then, _also i would like to state for the record again that six weeks is too long for you to be gone and i do not approve _ ☹️

Loki rolls his eyes and types back a quick, _I haven’t forgotten, and you’ll live_, before he settles in and tries to go back to sleep. 

Five minutes later, it vibrates again, and he decides that paying for WiFi on this flight was a bad idea.

(He does, however, spare a smile for the little pouty faced selfie Thor has sent him. He considers saving it—in a subfolder in a subfolder in a subfolder—but decides against it for the dozenth time.)

———

A week into his business trip, right before a very important dinner meeting with some very important shareholders in Oslo, Loki receives a picture of his front yard looking neat and manicured, along with the message, _youre welcome but_ _hey where do you keep bandaids in this place_

_Bathroom cabinet, left side, _he replies. _What have you done now?_

A photo of an ugly little cut on a familiar shin, just below the knee. 

_hit a rock with the mower _ 😫

Loki also notices that Thor’s knee is still bruised from the day before he’d left. He stares at it a moment longer than he should—and has to mentally shake off the memory of Thor between his legs in the floor, swallowing him down, looking up through those dark lashes of his when his shareholders join him at the table. 

He clears his throat and stands up to greet them, and it goes off without a hitch after that.

———

Two weeks go by without hearing from Thor once. Loki doesn’t worry about this too much; Thor has some sort of senior project to work on, and hopefully his silence means he’s giving it his attention. 

Loki lays awake in bed at a hotel in Copenhagen one night after three weeks with no contact, though, and wonders if Thor is actually going to reach out again before he flies home. 

He’d hoped that this time apart would do Thor some good, give him a little perspective… Thor is obviously hung up on him, much more than Loki is comfortable with, to be honest, but despite all the times he’s thought of sitting him down and having a conversation about certain expectations, it hasn’t happened yet. It probably should have happened months ago, actually, and now… he can’t see it going well. 

It’s his own fault, and he doesn’t like the fact that Thor will be the one to pay for it.

But he’ll worry about that once he’s back. If he needs to at all. Hopefully the distance will do something for Thor’s crush. 

He checks his phone once more before he finally rolls over and tries to go to sleep. 

(Later, he wakes up to half a novel, including a dramatic retelling of Thor breaking his phone, working every odd job he could find to pay his father for a new one, and finally, a long breathless apology for taking so long.)

(Also, unrelated, but Loki’s proposal that morning goes spectacularly. He doesn’t know what it is in particular, but apparently he’s doing something right.)

———

With a little more than a week left, Loki gets a text in the middle of another meeting. It’s the middle of the night back home, so, concerned, he pulls his phone out of his pocket as discreetly as he can and checks it under the table—

And when he gets home, good fucking _god_, Thor is going to get it.

“Everything alright, Loki?” 

“Fine,” he snaps, probably a bit too sharply, especially to an executive several rungs higher on the ladder than himself.

“You’ve gone a little pale, is all.”

Loki locks his phone and takes a breath, but he can still see it, even with his eyes closed. A pretty cock he’d know anywhere, shot from between Thor’s thighs, looking up at the underside, a perfect sack, and a black silicone circle beneath… It’s one of his favorite plugs to use on the brat when he’s being needy and could use another lesson in patience—like now, apparently.

“Actually, if you’d excuse me for just a moment,” Loki says after another deep breath that does absolutely nothing for him, and walks to the bathroom as quickly and nonchalantly as he can manage, where he locks himself in a stall and nearly drops his phone in the toilet in his haste to pull up the picture again. 

He looks long and hard this time, taking in all the little details… the gleaming trail of slick down the side of Thor’s cock, the faint, out of focus swell of a pec in the background, the familiar subtle stripes on his own fucking sheets because Thor is _in his bed_.

…

“Oh shit,” Thor answers on the second ring.

“‘Oh shit’ is _right_,” Loki hisses. 

He’s seated at the conference table again in less than ten minutes, calm and collected, after giving Thor very clear instructions on how to proceed with his alone time from there (he’s confident that Thor will do as he’s told, judging by that awestruck little waver that happens with his voice when he’s feeling particularly compliant), and jerking himself hard and fast and coming without a sound or a single stain on his suit after he hangs up. 

“Sorry, just a minor emergency to deal with at home,” he tells them with a smile.

———

Loki’s flight back home leaves tomorrow at noon, and with nothing better to do this evening, he settles in at the bar of his hotel in Stockholm. 

Halfway through his second drink, he realizes that he’s looked at his phone about ten times since he sat down. Not to check email or his flight status or see if his Skype meeting request for next week has been approved—to see if Thor has messaged him.

This is a problem. 

It’s _been_ a problem, longer than he cares to admit or probably even realizes. And if he doesn’t do something about it soon, it won’t just be Thor’s feelings that he has to worry about, either.

For weeks, he’s idly imagined the things he might do to Thor when he gets home, subtle little things (and others less subtle) to pay him back for late night messages when he’s forgotten the time difference again, gym selfies that show more skin than is strictly necessary, The Photo and its subsequent fallout (if Thor thinks he’s already paid for that, he is _wrong_). It’s not so unusual. He’s done the same at home, even when he’s hardly a week out from their last encounter.

What he’s also found himself thinking of, however, is the sort of look that Thor will give him when he gets home, the little grins and snarky comments, the way he stares when he thinks Loki isn’t looking, how gorgeous and _grown_ and perfect he looks sitting in the passenger seat or on Loki’s couch or across the table with dinner between them… And this _is _unusual for him. It’s also not good for either of them. 

It’s got to stop. 

Because he has a feeling that soon, he won’t want it to at all.

He can’t send Thor off to college this way, thinking this will continue, that it could be more than it is. That just isn’t possible. Thor may not realize that, but Loki is the fucking adult here, and he does. He’ll have to suck it up and act like it when he gets home… he’s let it go far enough already.

Loki finishes his drink and lets out a sigh. And then, his phone buzzes in his pocket. 

Thor’s sent him another selfie, sprawled over Loki’s bed again. But he’s clothed this time, posed absurdly with a ridiculous grin on his face, not at all attractive. 

_warming it up for you dont worry _ 😘 , he says. 

Loki stares at it. He stares until he starts to tune out the conversations and clink of glasses around him, stares until he begins to forget why he was in such a rush to set the record straight with Thor, until he can’t think of any of those very good reasons why this shouldn’t continue—until there’s suddenly a hand at the small of his back, and a familiar voice over his shoulder.

“Looks like my friend here needs another drink.”

Warm and amused, Swedish accent perfect. Svadilfari—Svad, as he prefers. A coworker, in some strange capacity that Loki’s never bothered to sit down and sort out.

“It’s on me,” Svad tells the bartender, holding out his room key, before he turns to Loki and adds, “and you can be, too, whenever you want.”

Loki finds himself crashing back into reality, and he rolls his eyes.

“Awful,” he says. “You’ve outdone yourself. I thought I’d heard the worst of it in Oslo last year, but you’ve really done it now.”

“Yeah,” Svad agrees. His hand is still warm through Loki’s jacket. “But my shitty pick up lines worked there, too, didn’t they?”

There’s no use in denying it. Not when Loki can vividly recall all the miles of tanned skin over hard muscle, sweat and cocky grins like the one Svad is wearing now, going over financials with executives the next morning still pleasantly sore from the night before… and of course, all the times before that when their paths had crossed on prior business trips. 

“I really don’t know what I was thinking,” Loki says, but he makes sure the look on his face hints otherwise. There’s a familiar rush that accompanies the look Svad gives him, and Loki remembers how much he loves playing this old game.

“Allow me to remind you, then.”

The bartender sets down a new drink in front of him, so Loki lets Svad wait just a little bit, just because he can, and picks it up—

And pauses with it halfway to his lips. His phone is ringing, buzzing away there on the bar. 

Thor.

“Need to get that?” Svad asks, still smiling. 

Loki watches it a moment longer, hesitating.

And then, he throws his whole drink back at once and says, “Not right now,” as he stands up. It tastes like ashes in his mouth, but he grins and ignores it, and follows Svad to the elevator anyway.

———

Thor hasn’t heard from his uncle in a couple days, but he knows that a big portion of that time was likely spent packing and in airports and in the air. He’s not concerned (any more so than usual anyway). And he also has a little flight tracker app on his (new) phone, so when he sees that the only flight in from Stockholm today has landed, he decides to head over to Loki’s place to surprise him with a little welcome home bend-me-over-the-couch-please. 

(Which will hopefully dissuade Loki from insisting on further punishment for that dick pic. The not fun kind, anyway. He’s pretty sure he hasn’t heard the end of that, after all.)

“Thor, he’s probably going to be jet lagged and grouchy,” his mother calls down the hall, just before he hits the door. “Are you sure you want to bother him?”

… Okay, maybe a little welcome home you-sit-on-the-couch-and-I’ll-ride-you instead then.

“He’ll live,” Thor calls back. 

Frigga’s head appears around the corner. “I know Uncle Loki is _cool_, but seriously, is he giving you drugs or something?”

Thor snorts, then chokes on a laugh, and Frigga laughs, and everything is great because Thor is graduating tomorrow and Loki is home and not even that ominous little countdown going on in the back of his mind all the time or his mother taking note of how much time he spends with his uncle can get him down today.

He’s across town in record time, letting himself in through the garage as usual, and after he takes a quick look around to make sure he hasn’t left anything out of place (like that cozy sweatshirt he’d found in the closet last week and may or may not have fallen asleep holding onto in Loki’s bed, but Loki doesn’t need to know about that), he settles in on the couch to wait. 

And wait. And wait.

… Maybe they lost Loki’s bag?

And then he wonders if Loki will think he’s got an intruder or something if he walks in and just sees someone big coming at him, since he probably _is _tired and jet lagged, and Thor really doesn’t want to get punched, so he gets up and relocates to the front porch, where Loki will see him as he pulls in.

And he waits some more. 

A glance down at his phone after another little while reveals that he’s only been waiting for about twenty minutes total. Well, shit.

But hold on—there’s a car coming around the curve, and Thor suddenly can’t wipe the smile off his face as a familiar black Volvo pulls into the garage.

Loki sits in the car a minute after he parks, but Thor waits patiently, and decides to go ahead and pull Loki’s suitcase and garment bag out of the back for him. Might as well make himself useful. 

“I can get those,” Loki says when he finally gets out, and wow, yeah, he does look tired. 

“Too late. How was your flight?”

Thor carries his luggage inside while Loki trails after him, moving slowly enough that Thor has to turn and make sure he’s actually following. He hasn’t answered yet either. Loki loves to complain about flights. That’s odd.

“You want these in the bedroom, or…?” Thor asks, growing a little more concerned by the moment. 

Loki just stops in the hall and stares at him, brow furrowed.

Confused, Thor stares back.

“We should talk,” Loki finally says. 

Thor swallows, hard. 

“Can I,” he starts, and his voice cracks. Shit. “Can I put these down first?”

Loki nods, so Thor takes the opportunity to carry them into the bedroom and brace himself against the wall for just a second, where Loki can’t see him. 

This is it, isn’t it? 

He knew it was coming eventually, but that doesn’t make it any easier, and he screws his face up, eyes burning, trying to get it all out now in private before he has to go out there and deal with whatever method Loki chooses to cut him loose. He _is_ gonna deal with it, though, and he’s sure as shit not gonna cry. 

Not where Loki can see it, anyway.

… God, he thought he had more time.

Loki’s still standing in the same place in the hallway when he comes out. Normally, he’s very good at keeping his expressions neutral (which Thor loves and hates), but right now, with his eyebrows upturned and his hands fidgeting, Thor has no idea how this is going to play out.

His stomach is in one big knot already, but it twists a little tighter when Loki takes a breath and opens his mouth. 

“I know we’ve never spoken about what we ought to expect from one another with this… this situation between us. We should have a long time ago, and I apologize for that.”

Loki pauses. Thor swallows again, but says nothing. 

“I don’t know how to—,” Loki starts, and pauses… then tries again, “Look, and there’s no right or wrong answer to this, Thor, but have you been seeing anybody since we began this?”

Anybody _else_, Thor thinks. 

“Not. Not really. No.”

Not at all, more like. 

The nod that Loki gives him says that’s what he expected to hear. How long has he known how deep Thor is in this?

“I’ve had… the occasional date. Here and there,” Loki admits, still hesitant. 

There’s that word again. 

“Date,” Thor repeats before he can stop himself.

Loki looks him in the eye and says, “As in I meet someone, I fuck them, and I go on about my business.”

Thor knew this already, somehow. And for a while, he’s had the very distinct impression that Loki has never been one for relationships either. But hearing it confirmed is hard, it’s very hard, and Thor nods, chewing the inside of his cheek to keep his mouth shut. He has no right to be upset, he knows, but he is. He really is, and Loki could have just fucking said that they weren’t going to be doing this anymore without dragging him through this shit first. 

“Granted, I haven’t in a while. But I ran into an acquaintance at the hotel that last night, someone…”

“Someone you’ve fucked before,” Thor finishes for him, almost a whisper. 

“Yes. We’ve had an arrangement for a while now, and he asked me up to his room.”

Thor is finding it difficult to speak with the lump in his throat, but he manages to say, “And you went.”

“I did.”

They’re still standing here in the hall, and it just strikes Thor as such an absurd place to do this. Loki couldn’t have invited him to sit down before he proceeded to just matter of factly rip his heart out? He must know. He’s got to know what this is doing to Thor, and so really, there’s just one question Thor has left for him. 

“Why are you telling me this?”

If his voice breaks a little when he asks it, you know what? Fuck it. It’s all fucked anyway.

Loki looks at him again, like he’s just noticing the misery all over Thor’s face, and takes a step forward, cautiously, with his hands out, before he says, “Because I wasn’t there more than half a minute before I knew that I didn’t want to be. Not anymore. Not now.”

Thor sucks in a breath, holds it. What does that mean?

“I left,” Loki continues. “I went back to my room. Do you know what I told him, Thor?”

He can’t even shake his head, but Loki tells him anyway.

“‘I have someone waiting for me at home.’”

Thor closes his eyes, tries to process it, heart pounding in his ears. This can’t be what it sounds like. 

“And he said I was an asshole for considering sleeping with him in the first place, actually,” Loki adds. “He was right. But that’s what it took for me to realize what I wanted.”

Oh god, this really, really can’t be what it sounds like. Thor takes another deep breath, shaky, feels his eyes burning again. It can’t be, but he wants it more than anything anyway.

“Which is you.”

Oh _god_.

“I don’t know how it would work. I wouldn’t know even if you weren’t my nephew, to be perfectly honest with you. I don’t know that we should try at all. But I want to anyway. We’ve come this far, and I don’t want to stop, and I don’t want to pretend that we don’t have something here. We do.”

“Oh my god,” Thor mumbles out loud. He’s sniffling now, but how the fuck is he supposed to deal with _this_?

“Or is that just me?” Loki asks. He genuinely sounds a little lost, a little uncertain, and Thor realizes just how much of himself he’s put out here; it’s monumental compared with how little he’s ever opened up before.

“Not just you,” he gets out around an unsteady breath meant to hold back a sob. “Definitely not just you.”

Loki gives him this relieved little half-smile, and Thor gives up on trying not to cry. He thinks he’s allowed to, considering the circumstances. At least he can still look at Loki with what are hopefully nice tears running down his cheeks instead of ugly crying, he thinks.

Well. Until Loki notices and says, “Oh, sweetheart,” and then pulls him into a hug. Then he ugly cries. He hopes Loki is cool with tears and snot on the shoulder of this shirt, because it’s all coming out now—because Loki wants him, not just to boss around and fuck in creative ways, but _him_, as a _person_, he said they _have something_. All this time Thor that thought it was just him, all the times he’s tried to prepare himself for finally being told that it was just him… 

He holds on a little tighter to the back of Loki’s shirt and takes a minute to just let it sink in, while Loki stands there and lets him, petting his back and his hair. This is crazy, but he’s pretty sure that if he were dreaming, he wouldn’t be this snotty. 

He’s almost caught his breath a little while later, almost ready to look Loki in the face again, because he knows they’re going to have to talk more, but then Loki gives him another perfect little squeeze and he realizes that this is the first time they’ve ever just _hugged_, and that sets off another stupid sob.

“Thor,” Loki says in his ear, deep and soft, “you need to stop crying.”

“I’m allowed,” he replies, muffled against Loki’s shoulder.

“You are, but if you don’t stop, you’ll get me started, and no one wants that.”

He can hear the smile in Loki’s voice, and he knows he can cry as much as he wants. But somehow it makes it easier to take a deep breath and calm down. 

“I wouldn’t be crying if you weren’t an asshole,” he says, and finally pulls back to scrub at his face. Loki is looking up at him like he’s trying to decide whether to laugh or cry or tell him off, but after a moment, he just shakes his head. 

“That’s fair,” he says, and leans up to kiss him, a sweet, brief little press of lips. “It’s not like I’ve done this before, you realize.”

It occurs to Thor then that no, Loki hasn’t done this before. He knew it, even before Loki said it himself. And so the fact that they’ve been at this for several months now without Loki feeling the need to put a stop to it, without him getting bored with it, or his fight or flight reflex getting triggered or whatever happens with him, suddenly takes on a new meaning. One that maybe Loki is only just starting to notice himself.

Thor doesn’t bring it up, though. He just enjoys the feeling of Loki’s arms still around him, sniffles one last time, and says with a smile, “Okay, but seriously. Next time you have good news, work on the delivery a little bit.”

“You’re an awful, ungrateful brat,” Loki replies, also with a smile.

“But I’m _your_ awful, ungrateful brat.”

An eye-roll or a put-upon sigh or both is what Thor expects, but Loki surprises him by dropping the grin altogether and saying quite seriously, “Yes, you are.”

He really is, isn’t he?

The thought leaves him warm all over, and then even more so when he realizes that it goes both ways. 

“And you’re my—,” _asshole_, he means to finish, but Loki interrupts him with another kiss, less sweet, less brief, which is for the best, really. That sounded a lot cuter in his head than it would have out loud—and also, no matter what the reason, it’s definitely for the best anytime Loki wants to kiss him. Especially like this, all hungry and intense and possessive, and holy _shit_, all Thor can do is hold on while his knees go weak and his eyes slide shut of their own volition. 

He was not prepared for any of this, not for the scare of his life or the best news of his life, or for Loki to walk him backward until he hits the wall while he’s kissed like Loki’s finally given up on being chill and collected and in control. All the fantasizing did nothing to make this manageable, so he just does his best to kiss back and pull Loki in even closer like he knows what he’s doing.

“We should talk,” Loki breathes against his lips just when Thor thinks he’s going to pass out. The way he presses Thor into the wall, presses the hard line of his dick against his, would make Thor agree to anything, honestly, but he knows that, yes, they should definitely talk, so he nods and takes a deep breath, trying to coax his brain back into rational conversation mode. 

“Yeah. Talking.”

Loki gives him a little _hm_ in agreement, just before he says, “Later, though,” and kisses him again. “Bed now.”

That works, too.

(Holy shit, is this real?)

Loki hardly lets go of him while they stumble into the bedroom, except to help wrangle Thor’s shirt off. Once it’s tossed out of the way, Loki is all eager hands and lips again until the backs of Thor’s knees hit the bed, and Loki tips him back onto the mattress with an impatient little shove. Thor goes more than willingly, though when Loki starts in on his pants, Thor bats his hands away and takes over. 

“I got it, I got it,” he says. “You get yours.”

Loki blinks at him, but if he’s surprised by the fact that Thor just told him what to do, he gets over it soon enough.

“I mean all of it,” Thor clarifies as Loki undoes his belt. 

Loki blinks again, and Thor has a very brief window to wonder if he’s pushed it too far, but then Loki surprises him yet again by saying, “Maybe I will then,” like he’s thinking it over, and starts stripping. 

Thor might forget that he was supposed to be getting naked too for just a second. Or five. But look, it’s been months, and the least amount of clothing he’s ever seen Loki in at one time still included underwear. He’s not missing any of it, alright, and there is a _lot_. Loki is long and lean with legs for days, and something about seeing the way he steps out of his boxer briefs just as ungracefully as Thor might (on a good day, anyway) is so incredibly intimate and—and _endearing_, of all things… Thor wants this every day, and he doesn’t just mean the imminent sex. He wants to see Loki when he’s not in Ruin Thor Mode, wants to know what he sleeps in, how messy his hair is in the morning, what he likes to cook himself, all those stupid little things he’s dreamed about all this time. 

And maybe, just maybe, he might have those opportunities now.

He has to scramble to catch up and kick his boxers off when Loki stands up again and catches him staring. But Loki just gives him a little quirk of his eyebrow and a long appreciative look himself before he goes digging in the bedside drawer, and Thor uses the opportunity to scoot his way up the mattress, unable to stop gawking at the curve of his ass. Loki turns then, looks down at Thor for another long, deliciously tense moment, long enough for Thor to start thinking about what’s coming next and spread his legs automatically—but then Loki just tosses the lube and condom aside onto the bed in favor of crawling in over Thor and pressing him into the covers instead.

“Oh, I’ve missed this,” he says, hands roaming up Thor’s sides and over his chest, closely followed by his mouth. 

Thor fists his own hands in the sheets and prays for strength. Loki’s tongue is hot and wet and getting personal with one nipple and then the other, and every time he leans in, Thor’s cock bumps and drags against his skin—but more than that, Loki _missed this_. 

“And you,” Loki adds, crawling up higher to kiss him again. 

… Oh fuck. 

Thor makes a pathetic little noise into his mouth that he hopes gets the _I missed you, too, oh my god_ message across. 

“And you’re being a very good boy—” 

Oh _fuck._

“—but you can touch all you like.” 

Loki reaches down for one of his wrists, fingers warm and gentle, and pries his hand free from the sheet. When he lifts it up and kisses Thor’s knuckles, Thor thinks he might actually die right here. The soul-crushingly sweet moment is over as soon as it’s begun though, and Loki slips down between his legs before he can so much as react, and—

“_Oh_ _fuck_,” Thor yelps as Loki licks up the length of his cock. 

He’s got permission to be as handsy as he wants, but there’s really not much for him to grab onto other than Loki’s head and shoulders while Loki quickly opens him up, leaving teasing little swipes of his tongue and brushes of lip all over his cock the whole time. He makes do with digging his hands into Loki’s hair while he gasps and swears and pushes back against the fingers in him. And even though Thor can’t reach the rest of him with his hands, he can still feel the heat of all that bare skin against his own for the first time, and it’s new and thrilling and mind-blowing—and god, if Loki mouths at his balls like that again, he’s gonna lose his shit.

This is not one of those days where Loki seems patient enough to drag this out and test Thor’s limits. Well. He seems to be testing the limits of what Thor’s heart can take anyway, especially when he keeps giving him those intense looks from between his thighs, but once Thor is good and stretched, Loki sits up on his heels and reaches for the condom rather than keeping at it until he eventually makes Thor cry again. (For other reasons though.) It puts him out of reach, sadly, but then he’s dragging Thor into his lap and pressing into him and oh god, Thor has missed this so much. 

Loki lets out a quiet, contended little hum above him once he’s buried as deep as he can go, and Thor responds with something closer to a whimper.

“Alright?” Loki asks him with his eyes half lidded.

Thor nods vehemently. “Really, really alright,” he answers, then nods some more once Loki starts to move.

But since he’s asking… 

“I’d be better if you’d come here, though.” 

He waves him downward, and with a little smirk, Loki leans in and asks, “Would you now?” 

“_Ah—_yeah.”

As soon as he’s close enough, Thor reaches out and tugs Loki down. It leaves Thor bent nearly in half, but when he gets a hand on the side of Loki’s neck and pulls him in for another kiss, it’s worth it. 

“Definitely better,” Thor says, because he doesn’t want to say _this is the best thing that’s ever happened to me_ or _this is everything I’ve ever wanted _or _I love you_. All true, but probably a little much.

Loki’s response is to lick into his mouth and settle into a steady rhythm, mercilessly exploiting this new angle, so Thor thinks he might agree with the ‘better’ assessment.

There’s plenty to touch now, all of Loki’s tight muscle and pale skin within reach, but the best that Thor can do is wrap his legs around Loki’s waist and grasp at his back, and that’s enough on its own for now. In fact, all the skin-on-skin contact and the heat and their shared breaths and Loki trying to devour him whole quickly turns into too much, and leaves him gasping for air when Loki finally pushes up on his hands, leaning in over him while he keeps up the pace. He’s so overwhelmed that he doesn’t even realize how near the edge he is until Loki reaches for his cock, fingers sliding with ease over his skin through the slick. 

“Loki,” Thor begs, desperately clutching at his arms. It’s too much and too soon, and he doesn’t want this to end. He wants it to last all night and into next month, and actually, he’ll just leave his schedule open for the foreseeable future. He’ll never get enough of Loki in him and above him, his hands and his lips and the sheen of sweat on his face and his chest. 

“Are you close?” Loki pants, and all Thor can do his nod and screw his eyes shut, trying to hold out. It’s useless though, because Loki only redoubles his efforts and says, “Go on, baby. Let go.”

Thor doesn’t know how he can argue with that. Not with the insistent pressure of Loki’s cock against his prostate or his stupidly talented hand or the way that _baby_ sounds rolling off his tongue. It’s too much, it’s too good, and he gives up and gasps Loki’s name again as he comes. And comes—god, and Loki’s right behind him, losing his rhythm and making this punched-out little noise that Thor has never heard from him before. Thor watches his mouth fall open and urges him on with a little nudge of his heels, and then he’s coming as well, shallow little thrusts into Thor like he wants to drag it out as long as he can, too.

When everything is still again, they stare at each other a moment, trying to catch their breaths. The way the damp curls stick to Loki’s forehead, the flush across his chest, the look in his eyes... Thor takes it all in, until Loki bends down and kisses him, light but lingering. 

God, he’s in love. He keeps it to himself, though, just lays back and enjoys the moment, thinking about what comes next for them, wondering what will change and what will stay the same... He’s pretty sure Loki will still boss him around, and he’s way more than okay with that, but how much more of this sweet, open Loki will he see now that they’re... whatever they are. Together. In a relationship. _It’s complicated_ applies, no doubt. ... Dating?

“Boyfriend,” Thor whispers to himself without thinking, his lips brushing against Loki’s. 

Loki leans back just far enough to give Thor a Look.

“What was that?”

It doesn’t really cover it, not that anything really _could_, but the pleasant little jolt in his stomach just thinking about it and the amusement in Loki’s eyes are too good to pass up. 

“You’re my boyfriend,” he says with a grin, and the face that Loki pulls only encourages him. “You missed me. You wanna date me. You think I’m cute.”

“I take it all back.” 

There’s a laugh hiding in there somewhere as Loki says it, but Thor isn’t so restrained as he crosses his ankles behind Loki’s back and latches onto him, absolutely beaming. He probably looks a little manic, actually, but he doesn’t really care, because when he says, “Too late, no refunds, I’m all yours,” Loki snorts and drops a little kiss on his forehead. 

“Lucky me,” he says, suddenly low and serious and a little more intense than Thor should be expected to handle, so he begrudgingly lets go and allows him to get up before he melts. 

Yeah. Definitely in love. Like 5000% in love.

Loki stops on his way to the bathroom, bends over to dig around in Thor’s discarded clothes on the floor (hallelujah—good lord, his ass), and then tosses Thor’s phone at him as he says, “Why don’t you text Frigga.”

“Text her what?”

“Tell her you aren’t feeling well, that you’re just going to stay here on my couch tonight. I’ll be right back.”

He shuts the door after him, so he doesn’t get to see whatever ridiculous and likely pathetic reaction that Thor has upon realizing that he’s just been invited to stay over. Which is probably for the best... Thor wouldn’t want to scare him off so soon, after all. He needs to see Loki’s groggy morning face first. 

He _will _get to see it, though, he realizes. And if he finds it a little difficult to see what he’s typing as he texts his mom, vision going blurry while his eyes burn, that’s just fine. 

———

Loki wakes slowly, easing into consciousness and growing gradually more aware of the very large arm wrapped around his middle, warm breath on the back of his neck, and, of course, a half-hard cock poking him in the backside. 

(Which is... an interesting arrangement that might warrant a little further consideration.)

Thor is still asleep, breathing quiet and even, so Loki stays where he is for the moment, not wanting to disturb him just yet. It must be early still, judging by the light, and they have plenty of time before Thor will have to head home and get ready for graduation tonight, though he probably shouldn’t stay as long as he’ll want to. Or as long as Loki wants him to, now that he’s admitting this sort of thing to himself.

They’d talked at length last night, discussing how they would carry on from here, how often they would try and see one another, how frequently they could get away with Thor coming over before it became suspicious, all the necessary lies that would have to be told... They’ve done well so far, Loki knows, but the longer this goes on, and the more time they spend together, the greater the chance of being caught becomes. They’ll have to be even more cautious than before, though with summer beginning, Thor may be watched less closely than he was during the school year. But what will happen when Thor goes away to college this fall is another thing entirely—

“Mmn,” Thor hums, deep and rough, stretching at his back. He also grinds his suddenly harder dick against Loki’s ass, hot and already wet at the tip (and dear god, Loki’s mouth waters just thinking about how slick he always is), and Loki decides that they can just deal with the college thing when the time comes.

_Good morning to you, too, _is on the tip of his tongue, but before he can say it, Thor jolts upright. 

“Holy shit,” he breathes to himself, sounding rather awestruck.

A fierce surge of possessiveness leaves Loki’s heart beating a little faster... He would kill for this kid. His boy. His sweet, bratty, greedy, beautiful boy. 

And boy_friend _now, as Thor had said. Loki would be lying if he said he didn’t get a little warm and fuzzy feeling at the thought of it, too. He doesn’t have any idea what he’s doing here, but at the very least, he’s going to make sure that Thor is as happy and well-fucked and looked after as he can.

“Loki,” Thor whispers, “you awake?”

He’s also going to keep on feigning sleep, because if he doesn’t, he’s liable to say something disgustingly sweet and embarrass himself.

Thor waits and listens, and after a long several seconds, he apparently decides that he hasn’t woken Loki up and lets out a little sigh. “Holy _shit_,” he says again. 

Loki fights to keep his face straight—which is suddenly more difficult when there’s a tickle against his cheek, and he realizes that Thor has very gently and carefully moved a stray curl out of his face. 

His heart wasn’t built for this. But the way it clenches up at that is nothing compared to how it stops altogether when Thor whispers, “God, I love you,” leaves a barely-there kiss at his temple, and climbs out of bed. 

Maybe he shouldn’t be surprised. Maybe it should have been obvious, and looking back, he begins to see a difference in the way Thor looked at him when this thing began compared to how it’s been recently. But Thor said it with conviction, like it hadn’t just occurred to him, and all of a sudden, Loki feels terribly behind. He’s only just realized that he cared enough for Thor to want to be with him, and here’s Thor already at the next step and beyond. He may just be a teenager speaking with a teenager’s confidence and no experience to back it up, but Loki has already suspected that Thor is smarter than he lets on, more in tune with his own feelings and wants than Loki could dream of being himself. 

It’s a bit alarming in some ways. But while Loki lays there and listens to Thor clatter around in the bathroom, he starts to think that maybe it shouldn’t be. He’s still here. He still wants Thor as desperately as he had in that hotel room in Stockholm, pressed against the door with someone else’s hands on him. He doesn’t see that changing anytime soon.

Thor opens the door as quietly as he can, and Loki does his best to regulate his breathing. He doesn’t want Thor to worry that he heard, and he certainly isn’t going to bring it up himself. Thor will most likely do so when he’s ready, and maybe by then, Loki will be ready, too.

“Boyfriend,” Thor says to himself with a soft little laugh, and Loki decides that really, there’s a very good chance of that.

———

Thor misses most of graduation. He’s there for it, physically anyway, but he misses it all the same. He’s too busy thinking of how soft Loki had looked fast asleep that morning with his hair in his face, lips parted. Or of the sleepy, delicious noise he’d made when he’d woken up halfway through Thor sucking him to hardness, the less sleepy, more devastatingly turned-on ones when he’d fucked Thor’s mouth once he was fully awake. 

He thinks of Loki smiling and laughing and pulling his hair back into a knot at the nape of his neck to run out and get them breakfast, dressed in sweatpants and an old t-shirt and a pair of sneakers Thor had never seen before. 

He thinks of all the things left to discover, all the chances they’ll have, and when he looks up in the audience and catches Loki’s eye where he sits next to Odin and Frigga, looking too sharp and outrageously handsome in his fitted suit to belong with all the tearful parents and whining younger siblings in the crowd, he thinks that Loki might be doing the same.

This isn’t ever going to be a normal situation. It’s not going to be easy or simple or even okay to probably anybody else in the world, but after the ceremony, when Frigga pushes them together for a picture, Thor puts his arm around Loki’s shoulders, pulls him as close as he dares, and decides that the difficulty will be worth it. He does love a challenge, after all, and he knows very, very well that Loki does, too.

“Your friends still throwing that party tonight?” Loki asks him, casually as anything while they make their way out.

Frigga hears and lets out a sigh. “They are,” she answers for Thor. “And he’d better behave himself is all I have to say.”

“Right, you heard your mother,” Loki tells him. “Be a good boy.”

Thor suddenly has to cough, but hey. Two can play at that game. 

Loki’s smiling at him, the picture of innocence, so it’s such a delight when Thor replies, “Make me,” and gets to watch it slide right off his face.

He’ll pay for it later, he knows, when he leaves the party early and heads to Loki’s instead, but somehow, he’s just fine with that. It’s just the first of many things he has to look forward to.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed or want to yell at me, pls feel free to let me know in the comments 😘
> 
> On [twitter](https://twitter.com/woulduknowmore)!


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